RAIDERS OF THE DARK
by Douglas Fett
Summary: My eight flashback RP of my main character, Douglas Fett.
1. Iridorian? Iridonian? Get it right Lucas

Betrayal.

The Jedi heroes of the Mandalorian Wars – Revan and Malak, and all their forces arrayed under them – have returned to the galaxy, _as Sith_. Their reason for going into the Unknown Regions - to hunt down cells of remaining Mandalorians - an obvious con, the two new Sith Lords have begun forming a new Sith Empire in the Outer Rim.

Due to this terrible new development, the Republic declares war on its former hero. In a twist of irony, the Republic prepares its defenses, ready for all out attack, while _Darth_ Revan avoids military engagements with the Republic altogether. Coined "The Sitting War," the first year of the Jedi Civil War was oddly uneventful.

In this strange lull, surviving Mandalorian warriours find opportunities a plenty, both as mercenaries and bandits. And for a small few, some find themselves still plagued by the bounty the _Jedi Knight_ Revan had posted a year earlier. One Mandalore warriour, on the run, finds himself targeted everywhere he goes.

This is that story.

_Dramatis Personae_

Douglas Fett – Male Human Mandalorian  
>Cpt Renault Blackfoot – Male Human<br>Garwrraar – Male Wookie  
>Tenlar – Male Mon Cal<br>Mothais – Male Chev  
>Major Halloran – Male Pau'an<br>Tejah Vuu – Female Zeltron  
>Mezyl Muuurv – Male Togorian<br>Bogart – Male Human

_Author's Note: For those cultured folks out there who love good ol' fashioned American movies, you'll catch on easily. In any case...this was another RP I thought up back in 2006. My original idea was Fett teaming up with the same folks, but fighting off a horde of religious zealots from another city [I may or may not have stolen that idea from history itself. Muhammad? Medina? Mecca? Yes? No? Anyway...]. Earlier this year I took a lot of my older RP ideas and fixed them up to make them presentable. Also note that my initial reference to "Iridorian" is a direct reply to LFL for being dumb. Enjoy_

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

**3,959**

**Outer Rim – Arbra**

_This guy is good_ I thought to myself, as I frantically charged over underbrush, across mud and small pools of water. The jungles of Arbra, like those of Carida and Dxun, were formidable to those not up to snuff. But my pursuer – an Iridonian bounty hunter – _was_ in top shape. For every defense I launched, he had a counter-attack. He had been tracking me for roughly an hour now, after spotting me in the nearby city of Bar-Yuba. To think I had come to this planet to hide, only to find a headhunter waiting for me.

_Wonderful. Well. At least he's not an Iridorian_ I mused with dry sarcasm. A blaster bolt zipped over head, frying an overhanging branch. It crashed behind me as I continued running forward. Just up ahead was a much larger pool of water – a swamp was up ahead. As I stepped into it, my foot sunk in up to my ankle. As I tried to step forward, the thick mud of the pool nearly kept me pinned. It wasn't quick sand, nothing silly like that, but it was a heavy duty pool of water and mud regardless. Annoyed, I fired my gauntlet whipcord up, caught a high branch, and used the strength of the branch to lift me up into the canopy above.

As I caught my breath before moving along, I noticed something odd about the water in the small pool. Using my helmet's sensors, I scanned the residue of water that was left on my boot. My sensor revealed an interesting fact – it wasn't water at all. It was _oil_. Not crude oil like one finds being repurposed for starship fuel, but some substance produced by the native fauna. _Well. How 'bout that._ Thinking for a few moments, I came up with a plan. I waited.

A minute later, my 'friend' showed up on the path below. He paused to look around, obviously wondering where I was. He had medium armour on, and was armed with some spruced up version of the latest and greatest blaster rifle from 'Guns R Us inc.' No helmet though, not surprising. Iridonians were not fond of headgear, due to their physiology. This worked to my advantage, as I tossed down a flash grenade. It exploded in mid air just in front of him, sending him to the ground as he held his head in pain. I jumped from branch to branch, reaching the jungle floor soon enough. The Zabrak had fallen into the pool, and was slowly recovering. Both his ears and eyes had began bleeding from the grenade.

I walked forward, nabbed his rifle and tossed it away. He had no other weapons. I stepped back, giving him some space as I pulled my pistol on him. "Easy way or the hard way. Understood?"

The Zabrak sighed, clearly distraught as he sat up in the pool. "You're a tough sonofabitch. Fine, I'll play along." He responded. Annoyed by his snark, I fired a shot into his armour. The force of the bolt at this range didn't pierce his armour, but it did knock him down into the mud.

"Play time was yesterday when you were hunting smugglers and gamblers. Who are you here with?" I asked. The Zabrak groaned as he slowly sat back up.

"I'm alone, you-" I cut him off as I shot his armour again. He groaned louder this time, more annoyed than in pain as he lay back in the mud.

"DON'T LIE TO ME!" I yelled furiously as I walked forward, pressing my boot to his neck.

"Alright alright! I'm here with Blackfoot. Captain Blackfoot." He hissed, my boot pressing into his throat.

"What the hell kind of name is that?"

"Its not his real name! Like a, uh, uh, a nickname, yah! He had frostbite on some ice planet years ago. But, uh, hey, if you let me go, I can put in a good word for you, know what I'm saying?" The Zabrak pleaded. I furrowed my brow.

"What do you think I am, an infant?" I shot back, pressing harder into his neck. The Zabrak coughed for breath.

"No, no! But really, I could take you to him! He needs guys like you!"

"He only needs 'guys like me' because he has pitiful excuses for mercs like you in his crew. Stop bullshitting me. Blackfoot is the town's watch dog. Why would he send you out to hunt me?"

"It ain't that simple!"

"Sure, sure. Here's simple for you. How about I kill you, and take your place?" I replied. To this the Zabrak finally fought back. With his arms he grabbed my leg and threw me backwards. I stumbled a few paces as he began to stand up, but I was ready. I quickly lifted my gauntlet flamethrower, and let it loose. The flames barely licked the oil that the Zabrak was doused in, and he immediately caught fire. I backed away, and watched as he ran off into the jungle. I casually followed behind, trailing him via the smoke cloud left behind.

I eventually caught up with my prey, and found him face first on a patch of grass outside the jungles, on a hill overlooking the city of Bar-Yuba below. After a quick check of my 'friend,' I found that he was dead. It was the late afternoon, as the Sun began to slowly set off in the distance. I gazed down at the town, then focused my attention on my prey. "Well. This 'Blackfoot' will probably want to know what happened to you." I muttered. I unsheathed a vibro-dagger, and went to work.


	2. Pirates, a Zeltron, and a Mandalorian

Bar-Yuba wasn't too large of a city, perhaps 20-30,000 residents. Sure Arbra was a gem, but who the hell ever came out here, except for people looking to get lost? Pirates, convicts, the less savory types were easy to find here. The folks who _lived_ here working honest jobs were nowhere to find in the later hours of the night. Was there industry here? Most of the townsfolk worked in a local logging company or in various shops around the spaceport, but there was certainly no Governor, nor Mayor. Bar-Yuba had been founded around local industry, but the town's early focus on business, not government, had left the city leaderless. In that wake, armed thugs had taken up the mantle of "City Protectors," forcing payment out of the residents in return for "protection." At some point though, these thugs lost their grip on the town, and succumbed to a new player in town – Captain Blackfoot.

_The Republic just had to go and win the war, didn't they?_ I thought to myself as I walked through the dusty main street of Bar-Yuba. Townsfolk looked at me in horror. It wasn't that I was a Mandalorian. They had never seen my kind before. Even the thugs held their ground. They had heard stories, of dozens of bounty hunters trying to kill just one Mandalorian for that damned bounty, and miserably failing. No, it was what I was holding in my hand. As I continued down the main street, my destination was in sight – _Rick's Café Corellia_, where Blackfoot and his gang spent most of their time. I flipped open the swinging doors into the saloon, ignoring the gazes of patrons as I walked forward. I spotted Blackfoot on the second floor, sitting down with his small band of cronies. I took the wooden stairs up, walked over to their table, and dropped the bloody, severed head of their Zabrak companion on their table. I looked at their angry, annoyed, stunned expressions.

"I'm sorry fellas, should I have gift wrapped that for you?" I prodded. I remained standing as I observed Blackfoot and his cadre. Blackfoot should have been called "peg leg" instead, as his frostbitten foot was notoriously _absent_. His crew consisted of a Chev, a Mon Cal, and not surprising, a big hulking Wookie. The latter growled in his native tongue, though I couldn't tell if it was because of the blood splatter on his drink, or the sight of me. As I prepared to have it all out with the Captain's gang, Blackfoot began laughing, though I didn't know if it was because of what the Wook said, or at the loss of the Iridonian.

"A big mug of rum for the boy here!" Blackfoot called out to the bartender downstairs. I stood surprised and eyed the bar downstairs, and spotted a female Zeltron working. I turned back to face Blackfoot. With his one good eye he stared at the Mon Cal. "Clean up the mess, will ya?" Blackfoot ordered. The Mon Cal begin cleaning up the table, took the severed head and went downstairs to dispose of it. The Captain looked up at me. "Impressive, very very impressive. Barg always was foolhardy, I'm glad you corrected that for him me lad. Sit down, have a drink!" Blackfoot said. The Wookie and the Chev gave me dry stares. Blackfoot noticed this and punched the Chev's arm. "Don't worry about them, you're in my crew now."

"I work alone, but I'll sit down." I replied. I sat down and removed my helmet.

"Atta boy!" Blackfoot replied cheerfully. The Zeltron walked up the stairs, sauntered over and set the mug down in front of me. "Hello lass, how does the day find you?" Blackfoot asked casually.

"I'm well, thank you. Enjoy, gentlemen." She gave me a cool glance, before turning to leave. Blackfoot slapped her fine little _shebs_ as she walked back downstairs. She didn't seem to mind though, as she looked back to give us a grin. My eyes followed her as she went back downstairs. Blackfoot slammed the table with his fist, and I whipped my head back around, surprised. The Wookie's drink tipped over from the slam and landed in his lap, splashing ale all over his fur. He roared, annoyed at his captain. Blackfoot laughed in my direction, his rotten teeth glaring at me.

"Zeltrons me boy! Them, whatcha call em…pheromones work well on you greenies!" Blackfoot said before taking a sip of his beer. The Chev observed his Wookie companion as the latter began cleaning himself up. I shook my head and looked back at Blackfoot.

"What?" I asked. Blackfoot began laughing again and set his mug down.

"So what do I call you, hmm?"

"Fett."

"Well Fett, I got a proposition for you. You come and work for me. My crew of miscreants seem, oh…incomplete without one of you Mandalorians in it. I'll even keep you safe from them headhunters. Whaddya say laddie?"

"I work alone, but thanks for the offer." I replied. I took a sip of rum as Blackfoot shrugged.

"Fine, fine, have it your way. Ever thought of becoming a bounty hunter then?" Blackfoot asked.

"Like I haven't heard that one before." I replied, annoyed.

"Fine, fine. It seems to me a young lad like yourself oughta be finding yourself work. You can't have _bounty hunters_ coming after you all the time, mmm?"

"I suppose not. What is this place?" I asked, as I observed my surroundings. It was a first rate saloon, that was for sure. A stage downstairs provided for entertainment, and a downstairs and upstairs provided plenty of space for card-playing patrons. Balconies upstairs and patios downstairs also allowed for patrons to sit outside if they wished. All it needed was rooms for rent.

"You're in _Rick's_, my boy. Best cantina in all of Bar-Yuba. And _there's_ why!" Blackfoot said, turning to look at the stage downstairs. I looked over the railing, and saw a burlesque strip tease had started up. A female Twi'lek and human began their routine, and the patrons, drunk and sober, began cheering wildly. The lights in the place were toned down to set the mood as the show continued. We watched from our upstairs table. Blackfoot cheered the girls on like a drunken sailor. I watched, drank my rum, and enjoyed the show.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

A while later, I was still sitting with Blackfoot and his crew. After a couple drinks they seemed to lighten up, but I kept my guard up. You never know when thugs want to play a clever con like this. Still, I kept up with conversation. Blackfoot just finished telling me about some amazing story of his where he fought off a horde of Gundarks, survived for a month on some desert planet before being picked up. The Mon Cal caught my attention when Blackfoot wasn't looking, and shook his head – "_that never happened_"

"So, how did you guys end up here?" I asked, before taking a sip of rum. Blackfoot finished off another drink and pushed the mug away. He looked at the rest of his crew for input.

"What were we doing, hmm? Ah yes, drinkin' and pillagin'!" Blackfoot said, laughing. I shook my head and turned to the Mon Cal, who was reasonably sober…and more mentally "there," for that matter.

"We were smugglers long before we got here. On our last job, our employer wanted us to pick up a package off Arbra. We got here, and decided to stay. We set the muscleheads in this town straight, and got them to work for us as a neo-police force. We ain't CorSec, but we keep the peace around here. In a few years, this place will begin to prosper when off-world companies hear its safe to do business with Arbra." Tenlar replied.

"What did your last employer want you to pick up?" I asked, curious. The Mon Cal shook his head.

"Its not important. Some things are better buried." He replied. I nodded and eyed the Zeltron from before, who was in the bar downstairs making a drink.

_Hot damn_ I thought. Standing guard nearby was a tough looking Togorian. Neither of those two characters were this 'Rick' though. "So, who is 'Rick'?" I asked. To this, Blackfoot turned to me.

"Rick is a puzzling fellow. No one ever knows what he will do or why." Blackfoot replied. I raised my brow.

"Sounds like you know him personally." I replied. The Zeltron came upstairs with a fresh round of drinks. I eyed her head to toe, and turned back to Blackfoot after she left.

"That I do, that I do. But if you want to know about him, don't bother. He's the tight-lipped sort. I can tell you this though – something bad, very bad, happened to him."

"What exactly?"

"I don't know." Blackfoot replied with a shrug. He was hiding something. "Drink up there Fett, the night's just getting started." Blackfoot began. I shook my head and set my drink aside.

"You fellas enjoy, I'm gonna find a room somewhere." I said, standing up and putting my helmet on.

"Sure, sure. But lad, stop by tomorrow. I could use you around here. And don't worry about these blustering fools working for me, they know better than to cross me. You're under _my_ protection, lad." Blackfoot said. I stood facing him for a few moments before turning and leaving.

"I never asked for it." I replied. Blackfoot lit up a cigar as he watched me go.


	3. Everyone comes to Rick's

_As the Jedi Civil War began, no actual "war" ever heated up. The Republic stood at the ready to defend the onslaught of Darth Revan's Sith Legions, and continued waiting for another year after they declared war. Revan had other plans – the invasion of the Republic wasn't his top priority – yet. Rather, as his Mandalorian foes had once done, he began expanding into the Outer Rim from his headquarters in Sith Space. While some systems put up resistance, others wisely accepted their soon-to-be Sith Masters with open arms. Revan, having learned from the cataclysmic destruction of Malachor, realized that there were more subtle ways to conquer an enemy. The construction of the infamous HK-47 was one such product of this theory. To this end and with this theory in practice, Revan began conquering the Outer Rim, not by the sword, but by diplomacy._

**Bar-Yuba; 16:00 hours**

Captain Blackfoot and a small cadre of his "Police Forces" stood in Bar-Yuba's "finest" docking bay, waiting for their guests to arrive. Their guests were the Republic's favorite 'new kid on the block' bad guys – Darth Revan's Sith. Or as the attorneys called them, "Ex-Republicans." Indeed, Revan's Sith Legions consisted of former Jedi and Republic troops, who had all turned coat. Or had they merely been loyal to Revan the whole time, and simply switched uniforms to remain consistent? Either way, Revan's new program of "Outer Rim Diplomacy" had made Arbra a target. Therefore, Blackfoot found himself as Bar-Yuba's "official" leader.

From the sky came a Sith shuttle. Blackfoot and co. stood waiting as the shuttle landed in the docking bay. Moments later, a tall Pau'an, adorned in the uniform of a high ranking Sith Officer, walked out, followed by a platoon of Sith Troopers. Blackfoot soberly greeted him.

"Good day, Major Halloran. I am Captain Blackfoot, and I would like to personally welcome you to Arbra, and our fair city of Bar-Yuba." Blackfoot began with pizzazz. The two men shook hands, and the Pau'an smiled. His smile was even more frightening than Blackfoot's.

"Thank you Captain." Halloran replied. The two began walking out of the docking bay, followed by their respective forces. Blackfoot's men shared nervous glances with each other as they took quick looks at their Sith counterparts. "I understand Bar-Yuba is the prime city on Arbra, correct?" Halloran asked as they exited the docking bay, and onto one of the side streets. People in the street steered clear of the parade.

"That's correct Major. You've done your homework." Blackfoot replied.

"Yes. You see Captain, Arbra has natural resources that are no doubt important to my Master's will, but there is something else here that I would like to find."

"And what would that be, my dear major?"

"A 'relic,' for lack of a better term. A piece of Arbra's past, that I believe will truly impress my Lord. I would like to start searching immediately." Halloran insisted.

"There is no hurry Major, you and your men have just arrived. Instead, come to _Rick's_ to meet my personal crew."

"Of course. I have already heard of this café, and about 'Rick' himself."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

_**Rick's Café Corellia**_** – 17:00 hours**

A brown haired man in a white dinner jacket and black slacks sat alone in the Café's private card room, whilst playing chess by himself. A Champagne Cocktail rested on the table next to the chess board, while a lit cigarette rested in a dish next to the drink. The man picked up the cigarette while he pondered the next move in his one-man chess game. As he sat thinking, one of his employees approached his table and handed him a check for him to sign, authorizing a 1,000 credit purchase of liquor. The man signed the check with _O.K. Rick._. As he went back to his game, he was distracted again by the card room's Gran doorman who caught his attention. The man looked up to see what was going on. Someone, not a regular, an off duty human Sith Officer from the looks of him, was seeking to get inside the card room. The man shook his head '_No_.' The Officer saw this and immediately started getting angry with doorman. The man stood up and walked over.

"Yes, what's the trouble?" The man asked. The Gran was about to speak when the other fellow piped up.

"This is preposterous! I know there is gambling in that room, and I have never been denied entrance to any casino!" The Officer protested, as he displayed his Sith I.D. badge. In addition, he pulled out several credit chips as a bribe. The man took the chips and tossed them in the exotic fish tank nearby.

"Your credits are good at the bar."

"Do you know who I am, _fool_?"

"I do, you're lucky the bar is open to you!" The man retorted. The Sith officer huffed angrily.

"I stand corrected, you are a _fool!_ I shall report this to my commanding officer!" The Officer replied. He walked away in an angry huff. The man shook his head and walked back to his table. A Sullustan gambler named Reestya joined up with him.

"You know Rick, watching you now with that Sith Officer, one would think you've been doing this your entire life." Reestya commented. The man better known as Rick turned to him.

"What makes you think I haven't?" He asked, standing several feet taller than the Sullustan. Reestya seemed to huddle down.

"Oh, n-n-nothing." He replied. Rick shook his head and walked back to his table.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

The Zeltron bartender, Tejah, finished making a drink for a patron before returning to her other tasks – cleaning glasses, stocking supplies, washing the bar down, etc. Mezyl, the Togorian bouncer, kept watch. She knew he was angry, even though he was hiding it. It was because of the 'new crowd.' She looked in their direction – several tables, all filled up with off-duty Sith troopers. They were rowdy, and while they weren't picking fights – yet – they were giving dirty looks to everyone else and singing war songs, drowning out everyone inside. Sure the usual crowd was in tonight, like Blackfoot and his crew, but the regulars were obviously off put by the Sith presence. As she observed the Sith, Rick, long time friend _and_ boss, left the card room and walked over to check on her and Mezyl.

"How we doin' tonight?" Rick asked casually, a lit cigarette in his mouth.

"Those Sith are ordering more drinks than I thought they would be." Tejah replied. Rick turned to look at her with that usual stare of his, that said, _"come on. Tell me what you're really thinking."_ She nodded.

"If I had it my way Rick, I'd have Mezyl here throw every one of them out. I don't care if they serve Revan. I don't like them." Tejah replied. Rick's expression, rather than intensifying with agreement, seemed to lighten up. It was the look of a man who silently agreed, but knew he had no power over the situation. But that he wished he did. And possibly, secretly, that he had a card up his sleeve. After a few moments he nodded casually, and she grinned.

"The usual." She said, as she picked up the Brandy bottle and poured him a glass. "Your getting to be your best customer, you know that?" She prodded jokingly. Rick shook his head with a subtle grin, took his drink and walked off.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Blackfoot, in his role as "Mayor of the Palace," sat with Halloran and the latter's top Officers. Blackfoot certainly preferred the company of his own men, and while Halloran and his men were not rude or rowdy like the Sith regulars, they simply had no character. They were boring. All they talked about were the philosophical teachings of ancient Sith Lords, and how "might makes right," and other such one-liners that had been spoon fed to them by Dark Jedi. Like Revan's "walking billboards," all they saw was the downfall of the Republic, and Revan's domination of the galaxy.

_Simple-minded morons_ was all Blackfoot thought, as he took a sip of his drink. Blackfoot was no patriot. He cared little for the Republic. But some ounce of him deep down knew the Sith were not just evil, but _wrong_. They wanted to control _everything_. And that meant criminal enterprises – vice, narcotics, piracy, bribery of government officials, you name it. It even meant ex-smugglers turned city Policemen, who just wanted to relax on a backwater planet and be left alone from the troubles of the galaxy. Blackfoot had amused himself – he realized that after all his years of criminal activities, he had become an individualist. _Live and let live._

Blackfoot, lost in his thoughts for a moment, turned his attention back to the "armchair philosophers." Some of the men and women at the table were barely 30 years of age, and here they were dictating how the galaxy should be conquered and reigned over. It was like young boys and girls who talked about politics, but who knew nothing of what it all meant…they simply were repeating the words of their parents. _Naïve, cynical little boys and girls._ What could have made these people so _angry_? Blackfoot's thought process was interrupted as Halloran spoke to him.

"Captain, are you listening to me?" Halloran asked. Blackfoot shook himself out of his stupor.

"Yes Major, please continue."

"…As I was saying Captain, this relic I'm searching for is invaluable to the Sith cause. With it in our grasp, the galaxy will know the true power we hold. You see, the Republic think us _traitors_, but truly, only a cynical man could call _us_ traitors, and the Republic 'noble.' Its not worthy of our loyalty, you see. The galaxy needs one man to unite behind. And that's why we…and I, as well…follow Revan." Halloran said. Blackfoot noted that unlike the rest of the yappers at the table, Halloran wasn't a jibber jabbering idiot. He was an idealist. He firmly believed what Revan was doing was right. Men like him were dangerous. Not necessarily in a straight up, man-to-man fight, but in a war. A war of beliefs.

"Pardon me Major, I'm having trouble following you. This 'relic' you're searching for. What is it?"

"That's what I wish to find out, Captain. I've heard only rumours. But from everything I've heard, I believe it to be a _Sith_ artifact. Something born of the Dark Side itself. While I am no practitioner like Revan and Malak, I see the value this means to my Lords." Halloran replied. He turned to one of his Officers for input. "What is it called…Dark….Darkest….the Darker? Something of that nature. I've heard fairy tales, local legends saying the _locals_ created it. Ignorant fools, truly."

"Truly, dear Major, truly." Blackfoot replied coolly. He hid his surprise with a swig of his drink. Blackfoot subtly eyed the rest of the saloon…he spotted two men he knew that wouldn't put up with Halloran. "Excuse me Major." Blackfoot stood up, and with his good leg and his peg leg, hobbled away.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

I was in good spirits. For once, I felt I could relax for a time without bounty hunters breathing down my necks. Or was it a ruse by Blackfoot to catch me unawares? I kept my guard up regardless. Tonight I was in _Rick's_ to have a few drinks, maybe socialize, and maybe, if I played my cards right, get Tejah's comm. number. I walked inside, and the Togorian bouncer nodded to me. No hard feelings there, despite the Mandalorian and Togorian history together. I walked over to the bar, where Tejah was mixing a drink for another patron. I remained standing, as I took my helmet off to talk to her.

"Good evening."

"Evening." She replied with a smile. Her eyes drifted away from me and then to something behind me. "I think somebody wants to talk to you."

"What?" I replied. I turned around to find Blackfoot about to tap me on the shoulder.

"Fett, thank God you're here lad. The quality of conversation with these Sith is bloody atrocious. Come with me." Blackfoot ordered.

_GODDAMIT_ I swore to myself. I turned back to Tejah and picked up my helmet. "Later?"

She nodded with a grin. "Later."


	4. Are my eyes really brown?

I grudgingly followed Blackfoot, as he led me to…._Shit. Fucking Sith._ We ended up at a table seated by Sith foot soldiers. Former Republic troops gone mad with power. Were they here for me? Was this Blackfoot's plan all along? My expression was hidden behind my helmet's visor, as I played it cool. "Hey fellas." I said dryly. Their disinterested glances at me seemed to answer my question. Although the alien, a Pau'an, that Blackfoot sat down next to seemed interested in me.

"Fett, please, sit down. This is Major Halloran, of Revan's Sith Empire." Blackfoot said. I sat down next to Blackfoot, but kept my helmet on. Before more "atrocious" conversation could continue, Blackfoot spotted someone else. A guy in black slacks and a white dinner jacket. "Rick?" Blackfoot said as the guy walked by the table.

_So this is Rick_

"Rick, this is Major Halloran of Revan's Sith Empire." Blackfoot said. Halloran, a gentleman, stood up to greet him.

"How do you?" Halloran asked.

Rick politely nodded back to him. "How do you do?" Rick replied casually. There was a hint of disinterest in the party already. Blackfoot then introduced Rick and myself. We nodded to each other.

"Won't you join us?" Halloran asked with a sharp toothed grin, his long fingers pointed to an empty chair. Rick's half-bored expression was his only reply as he sat down. Rick and I said nothing to each other as we settled down. Blackfoot then addressed both Rick and myself.

"Bar-Yuba is honoured by our guests. Major Halloran is one of the reasons why the Republic fears Revan's Sith Empire." Blackfoot said. Halloran seemed agitated at the comment.

"You repeat 'Sith Empire' as though you expect there to be others…do you think Revan and Malak shall fail, Captain?"

"Well personally Major I shall take what comes. I'm just a simple man making my way in the universe, I go where the stars take me. And the stars are Revan and Malak's." Blackfoot replied confidently. Halloran was satisfied with this and continued on. He turned his attention in the direction of Rick, passing over me.

_Like I'm a speck of dirt from some ancient battlefield. I bet one of my brothers killed his family. Probably had it coming. Dirtbag._

"May I ask you a few questions, Mr. Rick? Unofficially, that is." Halloran asked. Rick rolled his head in a shrug.

"Make them official if you'd like." Rick replied drily. I kept my ears on the exchange as I called a waiter over. Halloran busied himself with imported caviar as he made his query.

"What is your planet of origin?" Halloran asked. Rick pondered for a few moments, looking for an answer.

"Ord Drunkard." Rick replied. Halloran and Blackfoot laughed at Rick's sarcasm while I ordered a drink.

"Rick has a dry sense of humour, and that makes him a citizen of the galaxy, if I do say so myself." Blackfoot said. Rick dropped it and became serious.

"I'm from Corellia if that will help you any."

"I understand that you came here from Taris when we Sith returned to the galaxy."

"There's no secret about that."

"Tell me, are you one of those sentients that cannot imagine we Sith in their beloved Taris, or Onderon, or Dantooine?" Halloran asked, before downing some caviar.

"Not particularly my beloved Taris." Rick replied casually as he looked down at the table.

"Mmhmm. Can you imagine us…in Coruscant?" Halloran continued. I watched the spectacle, and realized Halloran was sizing Rick up. Seeing if he was a player or not. Was he threatened by him?

"When you get there, ask me." Rick replied. Halloran snickered at this, but hid it as he took a sip of his drink. Blackfoot seemed amused.

"You should know Major, Rick is quite the diplomatist."

"I see that. And what about Corellia?" Halloran asked. My drink arrived. I took a sip and continued watching.

"Well there are certain people on Corellia I'd advise you not to cross, Major."

"Uh-huh. And who do you think shall win the inevitable war? Do you think the Republic shall somehow fend off we Sith, or shall Revan dominate the galaxy?"

"I haven't the slightest idea." Rick replied casually. Blackfoot finished taking a sip and spoke.

"Rick is completely neutral about everything. And that takes in the field of dames as well." Blackfoot said. Rick took a quick glance away. He looked tense.

"You were not always carefully neutral. We have a complete dossier on you Mr. Rick." Halloran said. He pulled a datapad from his uniform's inner pocket and began reading it aloud.

"Richard 'Bogart' Spade, age 38, Corellian. Can not return to his home planet…the reason is a little vague. We ought to know why, and we ought to know what you did in Taris, and we also know why you left Taris." Halloran revealed. He let Rick take the datapad to see for himself. "Don't worry Mr. Spade, we will not broadcast it."

"Are my eyes really brown?" Rick asked, his demeanor oozing with dry sarcasm. Halloran took the datapad back.

"Forgive my curiosity Mr. Spade, I have come to Arbra to search for an ancient artifact of the Sith. We're checking up on anyone who might be of some help in finding it."

"I see." Rick replied. Halloran then turned his attention to me.

"The Captain mentioned your name. 'Fett,' was it? Any relation to Cassus?" Halloran asked. All eyes were on me now. Rick seemed disinterested as usual, but stayed at the table anyway as one of his employees brought him a drink. What was his business? Maybe he wanted dirt on me.

"He's a cousin."

"Or _was_. After that unfortunate incident at Jaga's Cluster, your cousin became a non-entity to Revan. Rick's dossier may be vague, but we have quite a file on you, young Mandalorian." Halloran announced. _Oh shit._ I kept my hand on my holstered pistol, underneath the table. Rick somehow noticed this and caught my attention. He subtly shook his head without anyone noticing. _Don't do it_

"Several Fetts here, in fact…your cousins Cassus and Titus, your brother Darius were all accounted for after Malachor…and you, Douglas, survived the battle. No mention of your parents…I understand your brother died early in the war, did he not?" Halloran asked. Sonofabitch was laying all my cards on the table for everyone to see. And all I could do was take it, or start a firefight and get killed in the middle of a bar on some backwater Outer Rim planet. Or if I survived…I'd have the entire Sith war machine after me. _Wonderful._

"Correct." I replied drily.

"There is a mention of you in the Hoth system by two survivors of the battle, Jedi Knight Cree and an Elite Commando going by the callsign 'Turris.' Interesting…nothing after that. You were certainly operating 'behind the curtains,' so to speak."

"Indeed." I kept up the calm façade, but secretly wanted to rip his head off.

"After the final battle of Malachor, you went unaccounted for by Revan himself. It seems he accepted the surrender of many Mandalorians, and you were…nowhere to be found. Odd, isn't that?"

"I suppose it is." I replied. Halloran continued reading the datapad.

"It seems Revan's own intelligence units lost track of you after that. They reported many Mandalorians working as mercenaries, others as bandits. Some unusual and disturbing news reports over the last year, all involving unnamed Mandalorians on Sevarcos II, Coruscant, Carida, Torolis, and Nar Shaddaa. On the smuggler's moon, the reports seemed to end…a witness reports a Mandalorian had killed an entire gang of criminals, and then he himself died. It wasn't revealed if the Mandalorian died via suicide, or from his wounds…very, very curious, isn't it?"

"It is quite curious, Major."

"However, the reports also say the witness knew the Mandalorian's name."

"Oh?"

"Yes. The witness named you, Douglas Fett, as the assailant."

"Probably one of my old comrades playing a joke."

"Harboring a grudge, perhaps?"

"Perhaps."

The conversation had become intense. I didn't let up, and neither did Halloran. After a few moments, the Pau'an smiled, baring his sharpened teeth. "You have nothing to fear from the Sith. This bounty on Mandalorians Revan posted is not my concern. As I explained to Rick just before, we're checking on anyone who could be of use to us. You seem quite capable Fett, I shall send one of my Officers to you if I require your aid." Halloran said. Rick, witness to the entire spectacle, who now knew everything he needed to know about me, stood up.

"Excuse me gentlemen, your business is politics, mine is running a saloon." Rick announced. Halloran looked annoyed and paid him no attention aside from a goodbye.

"Good evening Mr. Spade." Halloran said. I caught Blackfoot's attention, and he nodded to me. I left without a word and headed to the bar.


	5. Dame a dozen

"You see Major, you have nothing to fear. My crew and all the forces in this city are loyal to me, and I loyal to you." Blackfoot said to Halloran as the Corellian and the Mandalorian left.

"Perhaps. These two characters though…"

"They aren't _that_ bad, Major."

"Of course not. Mr. Spade is, what's the phrase… 'burnt out.' I don't think he will be a threat. The Mandalorian is expendable, a brute. If I require his help I expect him to cooperate 100% and more."

"Of course Major. Now, about that artifact…"

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

I made my way to the bar, past tables and patrons, to finally get a chance to talk with Tejah. I arrived, and found the Zeltron wiping down the bar. As I went to take my helmet off, a Sith trooper standing at the bar noticed me and began "chatting" with me.

"Hey, hey, everyone! We got one of our old buddies here!" The guy began. I kept my helmet on, as I stared forward. Tejah was staring back at me, waiting for me to do something. I waited. "You know, honestly, I miss fighting you guys. You gave us all a whopping back in the day…but I guess you boys all ended up taking it _hard_, huh?"

I didn't wait for another word. Before the guy could react, I grabbed the back of his head, and quickly slammed his face into the bar counter. Once, twice, three times, before pulling him away and delivering my knee up into his stomach. Before he could utter "stop!," I gripped his throat, and delivered an uppercut straight into his jaw. He flew backwards, and crashed onto a table where several patrons were seated. The table broke, mugs of beer fell onto him, and the patrons looked at me in horror as I approached my "friend." I picked him up by the throat, ejected my gauntlet vibroshiv, launched my arm back to jam it straight into his neck when…

Somebody grabbed me and pushed me aside. It was the owner of the place. Rick. My Sith "friend," already beaten into a pulp, collapsed to his knees. Several of his comrades rushed to his side to help him up. Rick looked at him, and me. "I don't like disturbances in my place. Either lay off politics or get out."

"Don't have to tell me twice." I shot back, angry. Rick said nothing, aside from his expression. It was hard to read. It was as though…one side of him wanted to be neutral, so much that he wanted to betray what he was really thinking. But he quickly clouded it up being convincingly angry, at both of us. I headed for the exit, as patrons stood out of the way.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Rick stood back as several waiters came by to clean the mess up. Rick walked by a table where an empty glass had fallen down, and stood it right side up. He addressed the entire saloon. "Sorry there was a disturbance folks but everything is alright now. Enjoy the show." Rick announced. The Corellian began walking back towards the card room, all the while Blackfoot and Halloran watched the event unfold, his demeanor betraying his rather 'detached' attitude. Blackfoot noticed Halloran seemed…amused? Impressed? With Fett's brutal treatment of one of his fellow Sith. Halloran took a sip of his drink and turned to Blackfoot.

"Very good. Keep that Mandalorian around. He could be useful."

"Yes Major."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Several hours passed. Rick left the card room for another drink, and found the gal he was dating, Victoria, waiting at the bar. Another bartender, the Rodian Bardo, was serving her, one drink after another. And flirting with her, not surprisingly. Rick was attracted to her initially, but like anyone, quickly grew bored. He ignored her as he approached. Bardo spoke to him.

"Mr. Rick, some s-s-s-Sith wrote this check." Bardo said, handing it to him. Rick gave it a quick glance before ripping it up. He could sense Victoria behind him.

"Where were you last night?"

"That's so long ago I don't remember."

"Will I see you again tonight?"

"I never make plans that far ahead." Rick replied, his back still to her as he focused his full attention elsewhere. Victoria turned away.

"Bardo, I want a Nar Shaddaa Ice Tea." Rick turned to the Rodian.

"Don't give it to her Bardo." Rick ordered. Victoria quickly turned on him.

"I'm sick and tired of you pushing me around!" Rick grabbed her by the arm.

"You're going home, you've had a little too much to drink." Rick replied. He turned to the bartender. "Bardo call her a cab." Rick immediately began dragging Victoria out front, past other patrons. A cab was outside waiting. Victoria shoved Rick's hands off her, got inside, and left. Rick lit up a cigarette and looked on as the cab left. He began to walk away when he spotted Blackfoot seated at a table outside. He walked over.

"Hello Renault." Rick said as he sat down.

"Hello Rick. How cavalier you are, throwing away dames like that. Someday they may be scarce. Perhaps I'll pay a visit to…whats the skirt's name, Victoria? I'll catch her on the rebound. No down-on-her-luck lass can resist me, you know." Blackfoot said, dropping his gentlemanly façade he used with Halloran. Rick shook his head, not particularly giving a damn.

"When it comes to women you're a true democrat Renault." Rick replied. They relaxed, just two guys sharing some drinks and smokes. They looked off into the sky, and watched as a civilian shuttle from one of the docking bays took off.

"A transport off-world." Blackfoot commented. Rick looked longingly at the shuttle for a few moments, then hid his expression as Blackfoot turned to him. "I often wonder why you don't return to Corellia. Did you abscond with Jedi property? Did you run off with a senator's wife? I like to think you killed a senator, all his bodyguards, AND THEN ran off with his wife. It's the...romantic in me, you see." Blackfoot said, half drunk, or not drunk enough. Rick shrugged.

"Maybe a combination of all three." Rick replied. Blackfoot, keenly aware of Rick's tight-lipped nature, moved to other topics.

"You know that Mando lad?"

"Sure."

"I'm trying to convince him to join my crew."

"Good luck with that."

"He's quite stubborn. You'd think a young lad like that would want to 'come out of the cold,' but he seems intent on remaining a loner. In fact, he reminds me a lot of you, Rick."

"You don't say?"

"I do say." Blackfoot replied casually. He took a sip of his drink as Rick's trusted banker from the card room, the Muun Meenix, joined them. He looked panicked as he approached.

"Rick, Rick, a player has won 20,000 credits at Sabacc, and the cashier would like some money." Meenix reported. He looked horribly nervous, as he pulled at his collar. Rick turned to Blackfoot, surprised, and stood up.

"I'll get some from the safe." Rick said, as he began to walk back in. Blackfoot joined them.

"I'm so sorry Rick…" Meenix said pleadingly.

"It's alright Meenix, this sort of thing happens all the time." Rick replied, as he gave a good hard pat on the Muun's back. The three went inside the saloon, and headed upstairs to Rick's personal chambers. Blackfoot sat down in a grandfather chair on the balcony, while Rick unlocked his safe. He withdrew a box, containing a little over 20,000 credits, and handed it to the banker.

"There you go."

"It will not happen again sir."

"Its alright Meenix." Rick replied reassuringly. As the Muun left, Rick turned back to speaking with Blackfoot, who had gone to sit down on the balcony. The old pirate's injuries were catching up to him, and he wasn't accustomed to standing for long periods of time. Rick walked over to a drink cart and poured two glasses of Bourbon, tossed in some ice cubes, and walked out to the balcony. He handed a drink over to Blackfoot.

"Thank you Rick." Blackfoot said, as Rick sat down next to him. They sat in silence for several moments before the old pirate spoke again. "I think you'd be quite interested to hear what that 'Sith artifact' is that Halloran is looking for."

"Why do you say that?"

"Its not of Sith origins, to start."

"If you say so."

"If Halloran digs up what I'm thinking he's come here for, it could spell doom for the galaxy. The Sith have always loomed like boogeymen over the galaxy, but if they come into control of…well, you know….the galaxy will fall under the sway of the Dark Side for generations." Blackfoot said. Rick almost coughed up his Bourbon as he heard this.

"Stop it, you don't believe in that Jedi-Sith mumbo jumbo."

"I've seen every armpit this galaxy has to offer Rick, and I can honestly tell you there is true evil out there. The only reason you and I are living right now is by strokes of luck…or by some other force entirely." Blackfoot said. To this, Rick rolled his eyes and stood up to lean against the railing. He set his drink down to light up a cigarette.

"I'm sure the Jedi Council would offer you a finder's fee for this one."

"I'm serious Rick. If the Sith aren't stopped now because those who could have acted sat on their arses, then all they will live with is regret, wishing they could have done something, all the while as the galaxy suffers under the tyranny of the Sith."

"Renault, you got something on your mind, so why don't you spill it."

"You always were observant. I think you're one of those people, the sort that want to do something…but are afraid. For I suspect that under that cynical shell, under that 'manufactured neutrality,' you're at heart a rank, romantic sentimentalist." Blackfoot said. Rick replied with a funny expression. _Me? You serious?_

"Laugh if you want Rick, but I know you. You think the Sith are the only ones who keep tabs on everyone?"

"Care to prove me wrong?" Rick replied.

"While the Mandalorians were conducting their operations in the Outer Rim, you fought on the losing side, on a number of planets. During their initial battles with the Republic in the Ojoster Sector, you had ran guns to the local defenders."

"I was well paid for both ventures."

"Let me point out another item. When the Mandalorians finally invaded, Taris was one of the first worlds on their hitlist. You organized efforts to relocate refugees offworld, and continued to do so even after the Jedi Order abandoned the planet." Blackfoot said. Rick seemed to tense up at this last bit of history. "I seem to have hit a sore spot." Blackfoot commented. Rick, annoyed, took his drink and walked back inside. Blackfoot continued sitting for several moments before leaving the balcony. He hobbled towards the front door, but stopped to say one last thing to his friend.

"You can't go blaming the Jedi forever. The past is the past. Suck it up, and deal with the present."

Rick shook his head as he sat down at his desk. "Great pep talk Renault." Rick replied bitterly. Blackfoot hobbled out. After a few moments, Rick opened one of the desk drawers, and retrieved a holo photo. It was of a man and a woman, standing together, with the Taris skyline in the background. The guy standing next to her was him. Rick forgot when it was taken, during some "calm" moment after the Mandalorians were "defeated."

_Ilsa_ Rick thought to himself as he looked at the woman. A flood of memories came back to him suddenly. After the 'proxy war' with the Mandalorians, when it appeared they had spent themselves after 10 years of campaigning in the Outer Rim and Unknown Regions, Rick had decided to settle down for a while on one of the worlds he had been running guns to – Taris. They had met at a dance hall and fell in love overnight. They married shortly after that. For a year they traveled the stars, visiting planet after planet – Coruscant, Ansek, Dantooine, Ansion, Salliche, Telos, and a whole list of other worlds before returning to Telos.

As soon as they had arrived, the worst happened. The Mandalorians, who had been presumed defeated and exhausted by the Republic, had invaded. Ilsa and Rick led a courageous effort to transport as many Tarisians offworld as possible. It didn't end well. The Jedi Enclave on the planet, fools that they were, tried to murder their own. Instead of living with their mistake, the Jedi Order cut their losses and abandoned their Enclave there. The Republic at least left their garrison to fight against the Mandalorians.

Rick had just dropped off a freighter-load of refugees in a neighboring sector, and had returned to Taris whilst the Mandalorians continued their siege. As he entered hyperspace, he learned of the recent Jedi retreat. They had been holding the line against the Mandalorians, keeping the population safe until they could evacuate. But the cowards left. Abandoned the citizens they had sworn to protect. Ilsa had remained planetside, organizing the evacuation while Rick transported them offworld. With their Jedi Protectors gone, the planet was open to full-on assault; the Mandalorians showed no mercy as they bombarded the planet, then finished the conquest of Taris with a ground war that killed thousands more than the bombardment itself.

Rick had evaded the Mandalorian ships, and met at a secret location both he and Ilsa agreed upon in case they were separated. Rick waited days and days, all the while the Mandalorians ate away at the local resistance. After a week and a half, only fourteen survivors had found him. None of them were Ilsa. Some of them had spotted her, or women that looked like her…but they all reported them as dead. Rick took the survivors offworld, and fled the war entirely. Heartbroken and crushed. He had never seen a body. Was she dead? Alive? He would never know. All signs pointed to her death, and Rick continued telling that to himself for years. Eventually he had made his way to Arbra, and settled down again.

The memories were too much for Rick, as he took to a bottle of Bourbon, and drank the rest of the evening away.


	6. A rank sentimentalist

_The next day…_

It was sometime in the late morning or early afternoon when the first scream in the streets was heard. I was sitting with Blackfoot and his crew on one of the upstairs balconies at _Rick's_ when we heard commotion on the streets below.

"What the devil was that?" Blackfoot asked. The Mon Cal Tenlar and I stood up and walked over to the railing to take a look about. Sith troopers were roaming the streets of Bar-Yuba, broken up into patrol squads. The rest were going door to door, speaking with residents…and some of the residents were being uncooperative. And the Sith made them pay for it.

"It looks bad." Tenlar answered to his Captain. Tenlar must have felt a stinging guilt as he watched the Sith terrorize the people he had sworn to safeguard. Pirates that Blackfoot and his crew once were, they were people too.

"I don't like this, Sir." Mothais, the Chev, said to his CO. It was the first words I had heard him utter. The Wookie, Garwrraar, growled in agreement. Blackfoot remained silent as we heard another scream from the streets below. Another resident, a female, refused to speak with the Sith. The squad of 'door-to-door' troopers had burst in…she wasn't being raped. _Not yet._ But it was predictable. The Sith would lose their patience as the day wore on, and would inevitably commit…indiscretions. I shook my head, and was reminded too much of the operation on Rori.

"Halloran told me he was looking for something here on Arbra. Guess he's 'enlisting' the aid of the locals." Blackfoot commented.

"What ARE they looking for?" I asked.

"A local legend, a rumour. Something Halloran thinks Revan will thank him for, because he believes it will strengthen the 'Dark Side.'" Blackfoot replied. I raised my eyebrow and shook my head.

"Sounds like a load of crap. Jedi-Sith mumbo jumbo." I replied, annoyed. To this, Blackfoot let out a small chuckle. "Whats so funny?"

"Nothing, lad, nothing." Blackfoot replied. I looked back at the Sith squads down below.

_Change the titles, give them some new gear, and they're still thugs_ I thought cynically. I turned away and looked further down the street. I spotted Halloran with his Officers, going for a leisurely stroll while his troops took their sweet time with the residents. I took a moment to reflect. I had been on the run for a year now. I was running not just from bounty hunters, but everything. Responsibility. Life. War. Was it time I came back to the game, took up arms for a cause again? Question really was, was this the right cause? I had no vested interest in this planet and this city. But Blackfoot and his crew…they were just like me. Guys good with a gun, looking for a purpose to their lives.

_This IS it_

"I'm going down there." I said to the four of them. I turned around to look at all of them, and saw that Rick had joined the group. Blackfoot, with the help of Mothais, stood up.

"Fett, don't. Halloran will be gone in a few days. No point in killing yourself in a place like this. And if you do fight them and survive, what then? The Sith, and _Revan_, will make sure these is no place to hide for the likes of you." Blackfoot protested. I retrieved my helmet from the table and put it on.

"_Screw Revan!_ Somebody has to stand up to them. I'm tired of sitting on my ass and running all the time. This isn't your fight guys, so if I don't see you again…" I said. I left the sentence hanging, as I checked my gear. Satisfied, I went over to the balcony railing. Tenlar stopped me and extended his hand.

"See you on the other side, Fett." The Mon Cal said. I shook his hand and jumped the balcony, into the streets below.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Rick muted his surprise at the Mandalorian's decision. The boy was obviously foolhardy, but he had nothing left to lose. Rick had always felt the Mandalorians got what was coming to them at Malachor, but to see just a young boy, not even 25 years old, throw caution to the wind and fight…for that, Rick was envious. Of Fett's courage and determination. Rick had been playing it safe for many years longer than Fett had, four years in fact. Was it now time for Rick to take up arms again as well?

"Renault." Rick said, turning to his peg-legged friend. The old pirate turned to him. "Get your crew and take up positions."

"My boys will stand with me Rick. But I can't say the same for my Police forces across the city. They may abandon us."

"Doesn't matter. This ends now." Rick said. Blackfoot pulled his blaster out of his coat's inner pocket.

"Yarr, welcome back to the fight. The rest of you! Fortify the saloon! Get all these people out and find a good spot. I don't expect us to win…but I expect many of them to die!"

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

I hit the ground and somersaulted behind a short wall, out of sight of the Sith troops. I was not an enemy combatant – _yet_. I surveyed my surroundings and the players on the field.

I was on the opposite side from _Rick's_, having landed in the middle of the dusty street and rolled away. I was in someone's front patio, behind a wall and under an awning. The house looked vacant, fortunately. Down the street to my right (South) was a large four-way intersection…Halloran was down that way. Patrols of Sith Troopers continued their rounds. I ducked and hid under the wall as a patrol passed by me towards the intersection. Meanwhile, to my left (North), the squad of Sith Troopers who were "questioning" residents left one house, and continued on, further north. The patrol left, and I was about to move north when my helmet sensors picked up other players…above. Snipers, on the roofs. One on the house roof tops behind me (West), and one on the opposite corner of the intersection (South-East) who, after a quick peek, was looking in my direction.

_Gotta take him out_ I thought to myself. I readied a toxic dart with my wrist gauntlet's dart launcher. For such a small projectile, the Kyber dart, along with other small missiles we Mandalorians have in our arsenal, has an amazing range. Not even my slug-thrower could fire the distance the darts could go. An added bonus was that Kyber darts were both silent, and killed the target in less than a minute of contact. When I deduced that the sniper looked away, I propped my arm on the wall, aimed, and fired the dart out of my wrist launcher. I watched as the sniper swatted his arm, like a small bug had hit him. He then collapsed to his knees, struggled to get back up, then fell to his side. He shook violently, before going quiet. I retrieved my slug-thrower and screwed a suppressor on, and then holstered it.

_Time to move_ I thought to myself. I stood and began walking up the street, away from the intersection and towards the Sith squad. They were knocking on somebody's door. I casually walked behind them, and closed the gap as they paused at the door. I ejected my gauntlet shiv while retrieving the slug-thrower.

"Open up!" The lead trooper ordered. His two cronies held back. The gap was closed. I walked behind one, and silently jammed the shiv into the guy's lower back, in a small section unprotected by armour. The black underweave was nothing more than a jumpsuit. His comrade noticed his friend collapse, and turned in my direction. He was met with a slug in the head. The trooper at the door quickly turned in my direction, blaster rifle raised, but I put two slugs in him. At such range, he was knocked backwards against the house door, leaving behind a blood smear as he slid to the ground.

"Holy!"

I looked up to see two of Blackfoot's Police troopers, two Aqualish, walk out of the alley, and spot me. They knew me…they had been given strict instructions not to try and capture me for a bounty. The Aqualish looked from the Sith corpses, to me. "What are you doing? Did the Captain-"

"Its started fellas. Meet your Captain at _Rick's_, or get out of my way." I barked. The two of them looked at each other, turned and ran away. _Cowards._ I turned down the alley, slug-thrower still in hand as I kept moving. The alley ended at another street, and I hid my pistol behind my back. I had reached a T-intersection, and stopped to take in my surroundings. Sniper on the roof. A patrol passing me. Another patrol going down the opposite street. When it was clear, I readied a smoke grenade and tossed it into the street. The smoke filled the area, confusing the troopers. I activated my helmet's thermals.

"What the?" One trooper yelled out. He was silenced with a slug to the throat. I shot dead his comrade, and took shots at the patrol farther away. I missed several shots, but took those two down as well. I turned to the sniper, but he was ready. I took a slug to the shoulder, and dropped to the ground. The armour had managed to keep the slug from going right through, but I was injured nonetheless. I had dropped my pistol, and as the sniper prepared another shot, I returned fire with my wrist lasers. I fired three bolts, and hit him twice. The street was clear, but now it was time to run. I picked up the slug-thrower, stood up, and began back down the alley before more Sith could arrive. My shoulder stung as I traveled back.

"Hold it right there!" A Sith trooper yelled. A patrol had flanked the alley leading back out. "Your under arrest!" The trooped yelled. With my good arm, I revealed the pistol and shot them point-blank, but their rifles were already raised. They managed to get a shot off, and the blaster bolt pegged me square in the chest.

_Sonofabitch!_ I swore to myself. The armour absorbed the shot, but I was knocked against the wall regardless. As I staggered back up, I heard blasterfire down the street. I came out of the alley and looked south. People _inside_ the saloon were exchanging fire with Sith troops outside! _Blackfoot?_ I continued down the street, trying to remain out of sight of the Sith troops. Halloran's lackeys were coming in full force, surrounding _Rick's_. As I moved closer, a blaster bolt pegged the house next to me. I jumped behind the wall from before, as more blaster bolts shot past me.

"Fett! We'll cover you!"

I looked across the street. Tenlar was upstairs, shouting out a window. The Wookie was upstairs with him as well, along with a Togorian. Rick's bouncer? I gave the 'thumbs up' to the Mon Cal, who threw a smoke grenade out into the street before me. As the smoke filled the street, I made a run for it, jumping through a first floor window. I crashed through the glass, onto the hardwood floor below. I looked up, to see not only Blackfoot and Mothais shooting, but Rick and Tejah as well. Blackfoot ducked down behind a table he had thrown over for cover to reload his pistol. I dashed over next to him.

"I didn't think you pansies would man up for this!" I yelled over the blasterfire. I unholstered my slug-thrower again as Blackfoot finished reloading.

"You don't know us well enough boy!" Blackfoot yelled back. We came out of cover and returned fire. The Sith Troopers outside had taken cover in various buildings along the intersection, while snipers had taken up positions on the roofs. Rick and Tejah had taken cover behind the bar counter, which very quickly became blasted apart until they had no cover left. Mothais had taken cover behind another over-turned table. Tenlar, the Wookie, and the Togorian meanwhile had things covered upstairs.

The firefight continued probably for ten minutes. Visually, we couldn't confirm any kills outside due to all the blaster smoke clouding the scene…but if fire wasn't being returned, then that's when we knew we had scored a hit. After ten minutes, the Sith troopers outside suddenly stopped firing. We however continued at it, until Rick yelled over us.

"Hold it, HOLD IT!" Rick yelled. We held our fire as Rick emerged from cover, dropped his rifle, and headed for the exit.

"What are you doing?" Mothais protested.

"Just shut up and cover me, all of you!" Rick yelled back. He exited outside. Blackfoot and I looked at each other, quizzically, then holstered our blasters and joined Rick outside. Blackfoot ordered Tejah and Mothais to stay put as we joined Rick. We discovered what had peaked Rick's interest…Halloran, backed up by at least four platoons of Sith troopers, had a hostage. A girl.

"Victoria, you alright?" Rick asked. It was his girlfriend. Ex, anyway.

"She's _fine_." Halloran replied grinning. He made sure we saw the blaster he had pressed to her temple.

"I wasn't asking you Major. Give her up." Rick replied. Halloran's toothy grin remained, as he nodded several troopers forward to frisk him. Rick put his hands up as he was frisked. They found a blaster in his shoulder holster. Halloran, satisfied, let the girl go. She ran towards Rick, who embraced her. Blackfoot looked appalled.

"I knew it, you are a rank sentimentalist!" Blackfoot blurted out.

"Not now Renault!" Rick shot back. As Rick held Victoria, she performed a sleight of hand….and retrieved a datapad from his coat's inner pocket. With that in her hands, she kissed Rick, then slowly walked backwards, a big, sly grin on her face as she pressed up next to Halloran…and gave him the datapad. Rick looked shocked as Halloran retrieved the datapad, and gave Rick his sharp toothed grin again.

"Thank you, Mr. Spade. It seems my initial impression of you…was wrong. You are useful, after all. If you and your friends wish to live any longer, I suggest surrender." Halloran warned. Rick, still shocked, slowly turned to us and those inside, and gave us a hand signal to stand down. Halloran saw this and ordered his troops forward. "Arrest them!"

As Halloran's troops began restraining us, he locked onto Blackfoot and I. "I did have such high hopes for you two. I could have used a local leader to rule as a proxy in my place, Captain. Such a pity. Now you shall lose your other leg...your other eye...your other hand...am I missing anything? Hmm..." Halloran looked to me. "And young Fett. Such a disappointment. I needed a good man to do the jobs even we Sith pale at. You Mandalorians are so capable. Yet you seemingly want to die, despite your kind being on the verge of death? Interesting..." Halloran finished, saw that we were restrained, and sent us away.


	7. The Darker

Our weapons were confiscated, all eight of us. Rick's crew, Blackfoot's, and myself. The Sith had us defeated for sure. All because I wanted to make a stand. For the present moment, they were marching us out of the city, stun-cuffed…off into the forest. It was late afternoon when Halloran ordered his troops to stop and rest. We were sat down, and carefully watched. The Sith platoons all began chatting and drinking, no less.

"Rick…what was on that datapad?" Tenlar murmured. Rick said nothing, and Tenlar was instead answered by Victoria, who stood over us triumphantly.

"You all think you know Rick so well, don't you? Just a guy down on his luck, huh? Yah, that's pretty spot on. If I lost my husband as he lost his wife, I'd be quite cynical as well. Indeed…what you don't know is that after Richard here left Taris and came here to Arbra, he didn't immediately set up shop in that dank little saloon…he organized a little expedition, and found something here…something buried."

"Something that should _remain_ buried! You're a goddamn fool Vicky! You don't know what you're doing!" Rick shouted.

"Still you push me around, after everything that's happened! I'm only a fool for falling for a man like you!"

"Halloran doesn't know what he's getting himself into Victoria. Him, and every one of his men, are going to die if they don't turn back now!" Rick warned. Vicky leaned down, slowly kissed Rick…then leaned back and slapped him across the face.

"I think we're done. Goodbye, Richard."

Victoria sauntered off…and joined Halloran. There was a term for women like her…ah yes, _man eaters_, or _succubi_. Both seemed fitting. Blackfoot turned to Rick. "So. You found out what's here. And then decide to record it in a datapad. How very thoughtful of you Rick, your not only a sentimentalist, you're a chronicler as well!"

"_Not now_ Renault." Rick barked back. All of us went silent. Rick seemed to wait for the Sith trooper watching over us to get distracted. When the chance came he spoke again. "I'm sorry everyone. But when the time comes…just follow my lead."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

We were on the march again, but we had no idea where. Except for Rick. He was the key to all of this. He had been here, found whatever it was that Halloran was looking for now. The Sith, following the route on Bogart's datapad, left the forest and went underground. Using high-powered chemical lanterns, the Sith platoons explored the underground maze…and found that it wasn't a maze, but an ancient, abandoned city. Halloran, in the lead, led his platoons further into the city, while we were marched along at gunpoint. After several minutes of traversing the old city, Halloran stopped. Ahead, there was a giant box atop a stone staircase. The box looked to be made out of a metal, similar to beskad.

"I've found it…I've found it…" Halloran kept saying to himself. One of his Officers, noticing his behaviour, tapped him on the shoulder.

"Sir, shall I send a squad to retrieve it? The march back to Bar-Yuba won't take long."

"No! Don't you see? If I bring Revan's tribute to him and find its nothing, he would destroy me, _don't you see?_" Halloran yelled back. The Pau'an seemed…out of his mind. The Officer, disturbed by his behaviour, nodded.

"Y-yes sir. What are your orders?"

"This is the single greatest moment of Sith history! When the greatest relic the galaxy has _yet_ to see will be opened for the first time! We must record it, don't you see!"

"Of course Major. I'll have a holo-recorder set up. What would you like me to do with the prisoners?"

"TIE THEM UP! They must witness this as well!"

"Yes sir. I'll order camp set up as well so we can leave in the morning. Is that satisfactory?"

"Fine, FINE. Set up the camp…and bring me the girl!"

_This isn't going to end well_

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Hours later, the Sith had finished preparations for the opening of the box. A holo-recorder was set up facing the stairs and the box, and chemical light posts were stationed all around so all the Sith troops could watch. The 'hot new couple' on the street, Halloran and Victoria, had emerged out of the Major's tent some time ago. Victoria joined the Sith troopers near the holo-recorder, while Halloran, wearing archaic Sith robes and wielding a Sith staff, proceeded up the steps towards the box. Meanwhile, the rest of us – Mezyl the Togorian, the Wookie, Blackfoot, Tejah, Tenlar, Mothais, Rick, and myself – had been tied up to iron posts overlooking the scene. Halloran took up a position behind the box facing his troops. His troops, at the foot of the steps, watched from below. Halloran, a Sith staff in hand, began speaking gibberish. After several moments, he stepped back, and let two troopers forward to remove the box's heavy lid. Halloran stepped forward to look inside. He put his hand inside to touch whatever had been hidden for generations…and scooped up sand. Just a big box full of sand.

Blackfoot snorted, amused. "Wanker!" I held back from laughing. The Wookie though let out a tremendous laugh, but quickly grew silent as Tenlar nudged him. Then, something happened. An electrical disturbance with the holo-recorder. It shorted out.

"Quiet!" Rick barked at us in a hushed breath. There was an odd…shriek sounding throughout the area. It wasn't human, nor was it alien. It wasn't coming from the box either, but from everywhere. Halloran, distraught moments ago, dropped the sand, and looked inside the box, which was _glowing_. "Don't look. Not even for a second!" Rick warned us in a hushed tone.

"What?" Mothais asked.

"Just keep your eyes shut, all of you!"

What happened next could only be described from what we heard. There was a voice, which, like the shriek, was coming from everywhere.

"_AM __I__ WHAT YOU ARE LOOKING FOR?_"

"Yes…yes! You ARE the Dark Side incarnate!" Came the reply from Halloran.

"_FOOLS! I AM NOT OF THE DARK SIDE! I AM OF THIS PLANET, OF THIS PLANET'S PEOPLE! I AM THE DARKNESS ITSELF! I AM THE DARKER!_"

"W-what? Impossible! But your power is-"

"_SILENCE! I HAVE SEEN YOUR SOULS! YOU ARE PITIFUL CREATURES! YOU CLING TO A BELIEF AS ONE NAIVELY CLINGS TO HOPE! YOU KNOW NOTHING OF HATRED, ANGER, AND FEAR! BUT I SHALL SHOW IT TO YOU!_"

"Yes! Bathe us in the darkness! We seek power! I shall overthrow Revan, and use my power, _YOUR_ power, to conquer the galaxy!"

"_YOU HAVE CHOSEN YOUR FATE…POORLY!_"

The dialogue between Halloran, and whatever it was he dug up, ended after that. Instead, there was only screams of death. I could only imagine what was happening to the Sith troopers, and Victoria, and Halloran over the next few minutes. After some amount of time, when everything had fallen silent, we eight opened our eyes…and found the Sith _gone_. The holo-recorder had blown a fuse somehow, the chemical lights were still shining, and the lid of the box…had found its way back onto the box again. Our bindings, we found, had been undone. After surveying the damage…or damage that had seemingly disappeared…I walked over to a large crate the Sith had brought in which contained our weapons.

"Where are you going?" Tenlar asked.

"I'm getting my gun back."


	8. The beginning of a beautiful friendship

Using the route in Rick's datapad, we exited the underground city, and made our way out of the forest and back into town. We discovered that Blackfoot's Police force had vacated the city entirely, wary of the Sith. When we made our way back to the saloon at nightfall, we had also found that the locals had stolen most of the liquor. Fortunately, the lights were still working. With nothing to do, we all took an hour to fix the place back up, turning tables back right side up, sweeping up debris, and putting chairs back where they belonged. After a long day, it was time for a drink. We all settled down at a table. Rick didn't sit though.

"What crawled up your ass and died?" Blackfoot asked Bogart.

"You, Renault. I'll be right back." Rick replied. We all looked at each other.

"I don't expect the Sith will be coming back any time soon." Mothais commented.

"That's an understatement." Tejah replied. I held back for the moment, lost in my thoughts. Blackfoot noticed this and slapped me on the back.

"Whatcha thinkin' there Fett?" Blackfoot asked. I shook my head, perplexed.

"I…I don't think we'll ever know what happened back there. I think only Rick knows." I said, looking down at the table. I looked up and caught Tejah's stare.

"I wouldn't ask him about it." The Zeltron advised.

"Wasn't planning on it." I replied. Rick arrived back shortly, with several chilled bottles. Corellian white wine.

"I've been saving these for a number of years. For a special occasion, maybe. Tejah, glasses?" Rick asked.

"Sure." Tejah replied. She left the table, went to the bar, and retrieved eight wine glasses for all of us. She returned, and Rick poured us each a glass. He remained standing, glass in hand.

"I don't do this often, but I'd like to make a toast. I'll keep it simple." Rick began. He looked at his glass, then at us. "Some things in this crazy galaxy are beyond our understanding. But at the end of the day, the only thing that makes sense is camaraderie." Rick said.

_Fitting_, I thought. We'd all be dead today if we didn't team up. We all had each other's backs. I smiled. There was a sense of brotherhood, of purpose here. Finally…I had found it.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Hours later, and several wine glasses later, I made my way out of the saloon. I had enjoyed the evening, with the likes of pirates and other fellas. Especially Zeltron bartenders. But…I still felt strangely incomplete. It seemed too early, _too easy_, to just settle down and lay low here on Arbra, of all places. I had bid my friends farewell, and left. As I walked out into the street, Tejah came running after me.

"Doug, wait!" Tejah said. I stopped and turned to her. "Do you have to leave?"

"I'm sorry, I can't stay, I…" I trailed off, at a loss for words.

"Its ok. It would be unfair to ask you to stay here." She replied. She took off my helmet and gave me a kiss. It was _that_ feeling again. I wanted to melt away I was so happy. Just die then, and forget about everything…but I couldn't. There was so much for me to do, to accomplish. She backed away. "Don't be a stranger."

Tejah left, and saw Rick was waiting in the downstairs patio. He spotted her, the curiously large smile had on her face as she went back inside. He turned in my direction as I put my helmet back on. I nodded to him. "Don't tell me you want a goodbye kiss too." I remarked in a snarky fashion. He shook his head, un-amused, lit up a cigarette, and walked over.

"You know Fett, till today I hated your kind. Your people are the reason Ilsa is dead."

"I thought you blamed the Jedi for that."

"I do. I think they're worse than the Mandalorians. Point is…I thought you Mandalorians were all alike. I was wrong."

"Is that a compliment?"

"Maybe."

"Fair enough." I replied. My mind drifted to...earlier events. Underground. "Say. That thing that the Sith encountered. What is it?"

"The stuff that dreams are made of, kid." Rick replied. I nodded, still unsure. But the issue was closed regardless. "Fett. You ever need to come out of the cold, my saloon is always open to you. Hell, maybe one day I'll work for you. If the price is right."

"Always the mercenary. Thanks Rick."

"Call me Bogart."

"Alright." I replied. I extended my hand. Bogart shook it. "Thanks, again. And I'm sorry I can't stay."

"That's fine. Just remember what I told you. Fett?"

"Yah Bogart?"

"I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

**DOUGLAS FETT MISSION PORTION: COMPLETE**


	9. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

Blackfoot and his small crew, without the aid of their Police forces from before, would continue to watch over the city of Bar-Yuba. When Rick decided to leave Arbra and set up shop on another planet almost 20 years later, Blackfoot and co. left Arbra for good. While their current whereabouts have been unascertained, its been rumoured the small band returned to pirating…within the Unknown Regions.

Rick continued to manage his small saloon for years. Tejah and Mezyl never left his side. When his old friend Douglas Fett contacted him many years later as Mandalore, offering him a job with Mandalorian Intelligence, Bogart and his friends left Arbra and rebuilt _Rick's Café Corellia_ on Nar Shaddaa.

The odd peace between Revan's Sith and the Republic continued for another year before exploding into all out war. Though Revan continued his agenda within the Outer Rim, he never sent troops to Arbra again.

The being that Halloran and his troops encountered continued to haunt that underground city on Arbra for several thousand years, its existence unexplained. Many believed it to be a myth, a local legend passed down from parents to their children as scary campfire tales. Only a small handful of people in the galaxy ever truly understood what it was, but their knowledge was lost over several generations.

Fett, now more confident in himself and his abilities, stopped trying to hide from the galaxy, and instead began enjoying it whenever he could. He no longer feared bounty hunters, nor the Sith. Nevertheless, despite many opportunities to settle down and relax after years of war, Fett never stopped fighting.


End file.
